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THE FRIENDS 



€xmm MX. Slake, 



THESE POEMS 



JUcMcatcb 



xthtt. 



The poems contained in this little volume, are the 
expression of a delicate and richly endowed mind, that 
sought rather to listen to its own harmony, than to 
bring its poetic gift into the domain of Art. 

They were written at intervals, between the exercise 
of the highest domestic duties — chiefly during hours of 
languor, which would otherwise have passed fruitlessly 
away. Touching upon few circumstances of outward 
life, and falling in with no popular train of thought, 
they bear only the stamp of a sensibihty that strove, 
perhaps too anxiously, to penetrate the mystery of 
sorrow ; hence, tones of despondency mingle frequently 
with those of faith and hope ; but the poetry of woman, 
having usually for its themes, the deepest truths of the 



Vm. PREFACE. 

soul, is rarely other than serious, and when a conscious- 
ness of life's sadness draws a heart only closer to its 
God, and heightens its tenderness towards all who Hve 
and suffer, we can but acknowledge that Melancholy 
has there borne a blessed, rather than a bitter fruit. 

It was so with the writer of these pages ; and now 
that the gTave has closed over her, we have gathered 
together the records of her thoughts and feelings into a 
more enduring form than she would ever have desired, 
that we may offer to her friends a memorial of one, 
who, amid all the varied emotions of hfe, by living 
only in her affections, kept always near the True Source 
of Light and Joy, the daily-felt presence of God. 



Fast-fleeting years, wliere do ye go? 
With all your freight of joy and woe, 
Why do ye bear your treasured things 
Swift— swift away, on fairy wings? 

In vain we seize your offered flowers, 
And fondly deem them ever ours ; 
E'en at our touch their colours fly, 
As rosy sunlight leaves the sky. 

Through starry nightfe and laughing days. 
Ye scatter gems of many rays ; 
Ye bring them fresh— ye strew them free, 
A rich and radiant galaxy ; 

2 



10 



Yet ere we grasp tlie jewels bright, 
We find theni oft a phantom light, 
Which onlj gleams to mock onr view, 
And vanishes as we pnrsne. 

Te scarcely heed our falling tears, 
Ye pause not for our murmured prayers, 
Our ardent sighs but bid it spring. 
The breeze that fans your rapid wing. 

Our joyous smiles but lend a light 
To guide you on your hurried flight ; 
On, on ye rush, away — away, 
No daring hand your course may stay. 

Fast-fleeting years, where do ye go ? 
"With all your freight of joy and woe, 
Why do ye bear your treasured things 
Swift — ^swift away, on fairy wings ? 



Cl]« fast 



The Past — the dreamy, shadowy Past, 
The voiceless and the drear — 

Forever flitting from our grasp, 
With all we hold most dear. 

The silent Past— oh, call it not ! 

It hath a ceaseless tone 
Of deep, and wearing memory, 

The heart must ever own. 

The voiceless Past — it is not so. 

Words, senseless words and vain. 
That fall in cruel mockery 

Of human grief and pain. 



12 THEPAST. 

The voiceless Past — and yet it speaks, 
With strange and hallowed power, 

That pierces through and thrills the heart, 
In many a lonely hour. 

The silent Past — is silence that, 

Which thro' dream and slumber still, 

Hath yet an echo strong and wild. 
To waken at its will ? 

The dreamy Past — is that a dream, 
Which shakes the inmost frame, 

And lights with keen and quivering flash, 
Youth's ardent glance again ? 

The shadowy Past — call ye that shade. 

O'er which a spirit plays. 
With pure and softened light, unknown 

To Hope's illusive rays ? 



T H E P A S T . 13 

Tlie dark, dark Past — and yet its gleams, 

A sacred lustre fling. 
O'er all of calm, o'er all of hope, 

The future ere shall bring. 

The dreary Past — ^is that all drear 

To which the fond heart clings. 
When snapped each living chord, that bound 

To earth and earthly things. 

Oh, deem it not — though veiled, and dimmed, 

There linger ever nigh, 
The precious gems that Time hath stol'n, 

To treasure in the sky. 



€tllXB. 



Tears, tears, mysterious tears, 

Where are your sources ; whence do ye flow ? 

Come ye at Joy's call, or freighted by Woe ? 

Where are your sources ; whence do ye flow ? 
Swift o'er the Past as fond Memory flies. 
Gemming forever her footsteps ye rise. 
Silent, unheeded, unbidden ye spring, 
If Hope o'er the Future her halo would fling. 
Sympathy deems ye her treasures most rare, 
Friendship enshrines not a tribute so dear ; 
Wakened by Pity, like jewels ye shine. 
Shedding around her a lustre divine. 
Of all Love's fond breathings no vows are sincere. 
Save those that are hallowed, and sealed by a tear. 



T E A E S . 15 

Say are ye angel's gifts sped from on liigli, 
To quench the fierce arrows of Grief, as they fly ? 
Or, are ye the sparkles which Mercy let fall 
When Sin overshadowed the world like a pall ? 
Flashed ye like diamonds, from Purity's eyes, 
"When, chased by Pollution, she fled to the skies ? 
Was it Devotion, first taught you to flow ; 
Her last precious boon to Repentance below. 
That steeped in its pure wave Faith's symbol might glow, 
A glad star of promise through darkness and woe ? 
Or Destiny gave ye her fiat to bear ? 
For still on her signet your pearl-drops appear. 
That linked and enwoven ye ever might be 
With all we most cherish — with all we would flee ; 
E"or springs there a feeling, glad, holy, or wise. 
Untouched by the spell, that should bid ye arise ; 
ISTor stirs an emotion, pure, tender, or deep. 
That unbath'd in your fountain its freshness could keep. 
Tears, tears, mysterious tears. 



16 TEARS. 

Come ye at Joy's call, or freighted by Woe? 
Where are your sources ; whence do ye flow ? 

Tears, tears, mysterious tears, 
Long as young Fancy her tinting shall give, 
Memory sadden, or fond Hope deceive ; 
While Joy, or Faith, or Affection shall glow, 
Quenchless your sources, unceasing your flow. 



C|£ St0rm. 



'Tis night — dark, sullen, raving night, 
The tempest rages in its might. 
Li mercy, oh, in mercy pour 
Some beacon-light along the shore. 
And bow the knee ; oh, breathe a prayer 
For those who stem such night of fear ; 
For wildly o'er the trembling land. 
The barren coast, the rocky strand. 
And wildly o'er the deep, wide sea, 
The rushing winds burst fierce and free. 
In fury swept along the tide. 
Without one friendly star to guide. 
Rocked on the foaming billows crest, 
The storm-tossed vessel finds no rest. 
3 



18 THE STOKM. 

E'ow borne by treaclierons waves on bigb, 

It seems to pierce the lurid sky ; 

E"ow plunging clown the watery steep, 

A thousand fathoms dark and deep ; 

While red and fearful flashes show 

Tlie endless depths that frown below. 

Through shivering mast, and splitting sail, 

Loud howls the demon of the gale ; 

All wrecked and shattered from the fight, 

'No more a graceful form of life, 

No more a thing to guide at will. 

By human arm, or human skill, 

But some huge monster rack'd with pain. 

The vessel pitches o'er the main. 

And blindly, madly, seems to brave 

Tlie fearful gulf — the yawning grave. 

In wilder triumph fierce and high, 

The furies of the blast sweep by. 

While spirits of the sea and air. 



THE STORM. 19 

Howl reqiTiein o'er the brave, and fair. 

Dream not — no fear-wronglit dream may tell 

The horrors of that dark farewell ; 

How those dread moments flitted by, 

Fraught with an age of agony ; 

How some were frenzied by despair, 

Some frozen 'neath the grasp of fear, 

How those, who ne'er in battle cowered, 

When Death's fierce shapes around them lowered, 

]^ow felt the warm blood curdling lie 

E'en at its sources seared and dry ; 

Stern, rugged hearts, ne'er moved before. 

Bowed down to tremble and adore ; 

How Faith, with calm and upraised eye, 

Saw visions bursting from on high. 

Angels of mercy stoop to hear 

The struggling sigh, the half-breathed prayer, 

Bearing with swift, recording love. 

Each sign of penitence above, 



20 THESTOEM. 

Pour on the lost and tempest-riven 
The holy light, and peace of heaven. 
Enough — enough — ^unbreathed must be, 
The secrets of the deep, deep sea. 



C|f fads' Mutiny. 

Suggested by a passage in LaMartine's " Voyage en Orient. 

They felt it in the first keen glance 

That never met before, 
They felt that they were Poets both, 

Upon that ancient shore. 

Of different race and lineament. 
Of creed that differed wide ; 

Yet bright as sudden was the charm, 
That drew them side by side. 

One was the child of love and song. 

Born 'neath a burning sky, 
Of rushing thought and ardent will. 

And impulse wild and high. 



22 T H E P O E T S ' M E E T I N G . 

As fearless was he, and as free 

As the restless waves of his desert sea, 

And he felt, as he trod his own wild land, 

That he loved it for its boundless sand, 

For its fl-jing steeds, and its flashing brand. 

But he loved it more for the glowing eyes, 

That caught their rays from those quenchless skies. 

He was proud that his race ne'er bent the knee, 

That their hearts were strong, and their souls were free. 

The other was of calmer mien. 

Upon whose noble air. 
The grace of many a living scene 

Had left its impress fair. 

And from his softened glances fell 
Touches of thought too deep to tell, 
Kays from that fount of inward light 
Glorious, yet too sadly bright. 



THE poets' MEETING. 23 



JSTurtiirecl in mild and distant clime, 
Where swifter waves the wing of Time, 
In many regions, had he read 
The book of life so varied ; 
And caught from every passing hour, 
The gleamings of a hidden power, 
Tliat, as the magic pages turned, 
With clearer, purer impulse burned. 
And all unscathed his youth had stood 
The crossing of Life's passion flood. 
Where many a wreck of joy and pride 
Sunk hopeless in the raging tide. 
Yet not unmarked that high pale brow, 
Where thought and care fell shadowing now, 
And 'neath that glance so sad and still. 
Slept energy, and stirring will. 

How met they on that desert shore 
So dimmed, yet rich with ancient lore ? 



24 



Beneath — above — on every hand, 

The flaming skj — 'the restless sand — 

Drawn by the Spirit's secret sign, 

That writing of a Hand divine, 

They felt — they owned, that transient hour, 

The kindlings of the inward power ; 

Each poured in loved and native tongue. 

The glorious sympathies of song. 

Thus met they in the desert wild. 

The man of thought and ]^ature's child. 



ITws ^Egge^t^ly h ^^m' |talji. 



Yes, thou art loved, bright Italy, 
With thy rich clustering bowers, and ancient streams. 
Thy plains, where Autumn, with a lavish pride. 
Each year returning, for the vintage strews 
Its purple treasures — ^high in graceful waves. 
Bright glancing in the sunlight now, 
Now darkly clustering round some low-roof 'd cot, 
The peasant's joy, the blushing grape is seen ; 
Thine, too, a sky, that thro' the varied year 
Laughs on its children with a deep, soft hue. 
Yet not for these alone (kind I^ature's gifts) 
Art thou so loved ; no, over thee doth hang 
A spirit that, from age to age, hath thrown 
A halo round thy brow, undimmed by Time, 
4 



And light unquenchable ; for ever at thy name, 

Thro' Earth's wide circuit, to its utmost verge. 

Will hearts be found to thrill with mingled tone 

Of wonder and deep joy ; yes, they who ne'er have trod 

Thy sunny shore, (perchance they never may), 

Yet have they dreamed of thee. 

Li life's first flashing hours, 
When the young spirit, soaring high aloft, 
Too fondly makes all glorious things its own 
Oft have they hung entranced on the page 
That tells of thy renown — renown not won, 
By deeds of valour only ; these were little worth ; 
But by high virtues, such as well might bear 
Thy name to distant ages to revere ; 
Have watched with glowing hearts thy Rome arise, 
Imperial, crowned Rome, whose noble sons. 
Year after year, laid trophies at her feet, 
And hung like jewels round her as she rose. 
Shedding new lustre o'er her onward steps. 



LINES SUGGESTED BY ROGEKs' ITALY. 27 

As to her glorious destiny she moved ; 
Higher and higher, till at last she sat 
Enthroned in majesty and might supreme, 
At once the Queen, and Mistress of the world. 

Yet not on themes like these. 
The high, the Past, may the thoughts dwell alone. 
Alas ! they see thee in thy latter days, 
Tliy glory long, long clouded^ — ^past away ; 
In fancy wander o'er thy vine-clad steeps, 
And mark the ruin that the hand of Time, 
Hath strewed around ; yet 'mid the wreck of Art, 
Tliey find thee still most beautiful ; and pause 
Where the white palace high uprears its head. 
And midway seeks the skies, (conjuring up 
A thousand stories of the olden time). 
Though mould'ring ruin sleeps amid its domes, 
And on its stately walls decay hath fall'n ; 
Or linger, at the noontide's sultry hour, 
Beside some gushing fountain, where the J^ymph 



Graceful reclining as in days of yore, 

Yet seems to make tlie crystal wave lier care 



Or leaning near some ancient fane, whose courts 

'No more shall eclio to the heathen rite, 

]^or reeking altars, with fanatic zeal, 

Bid thousand victims bleed : for hark ! 

To waken from the death-like trance of years. 

Soft-stealing o'er the silent air, is heard 

The vesper-hymn, by grateful hearts sent up, 

Who now, at each returning day's decline. 

In countless numbers, bow them down. 

And worship at the everlasting Throne 

Of Him, the Eternal One, the only True, 

From whom all things arose. Lo ! it has ceased ; 

And ere the sun with glcwing steps departs, 

A thousand varied tones of joy and mirth. 

Wake the glad echoes of the summer eve : 

Swift o'er the bay, the light skiff holds its course, 

Bearing some lover to the feet of her. 



LINES SUGGESTED BY EOGEKs' ITALY. 29 

Who long hatli watched its prow with anxious ejes ; 

Eyes whose deep histre well might lend a ray, 

E'en to the midnight stars ; so thought he when 

Their glance first met his own in fond, confiding love : 

The laugh, the song from many an olive grove, 

Breaks lightly on the ear, where 'neath the silv'ry boughs, 

In scattered groups, the peasants seek repose ; 

Here tresses wild and dark, rich-glowing cheeks, 

Mark the warm tintings of an ardent sun. 

And forms and brows are here, where J^ature's hand, 

Her noblest image and impress hath stamped ; 

Blending with these a simple grace. 

And majesty, which courtly arts. 

In vain would strive to teach. 

See ! how they cluster round, an eager band, 

List'ning in mute attention, to some tale 

Of war, or love — ^perchance of nobler deeds ; 

Breathless they catch its soft, melodious flow. 

Or, as the burning torrent sweeps along. 



30 LINES SUGGESTED BY ROGEKs' ITALY. 

Striking those chords that deep, and hallowed lie 

In every heart, a thousand passions rise ; 

Forms are dilating high beneath its touch. 

Hands clenched in hands ; bright flashing rays are sent 

From orbs whose dark hues seem all turned to fire. 

And in each peasant-breast, a hero starts to life ; 

Such as once watched, with sternly j ealous heart. 

O'er the clear light of Freedom's rising flame. 

And poured his life-blood, in her holy cause. 



% f ott'^ €xnB\ixtB. 



Oh ! tliink not that the Poet's mind, 

A lofty theme must ever find, 

To wake his spirit, or to fill 

His ardent soul with rapture's thrill. 

'Tis not the hero in his might, 

Nor brave hearts banded for the fight ; 

'Tis not soft beauty's opening bloom, 

Nor laurels laid on Glory's tomb ; 

'Tis not the patriot's burst of fire 

That scathes the tyrant in its ire. 

'Tis not the sage's parting breath. 

The saint's calm triumph over death, 

Nor page where, marked by Fame's bright hand. 

The records of long ages stand ; 



32 



A nation's homage, late, tliongli jiist. 
To slighted worth, to martyred dust ; 
E'or e'en the deep, victorious power 
Of patient Virtue's crowning hour. 
"lis not Earth's pageants bright and gay, 
Where Beanty sheds her lustrous ray ; 
]S"or l^ature with majestic might 
Outspread before the glowing sight. 
While Art arrays, with mimic pride. 
Her countless wonders by its side. 
Bidding her fearless vessels sweep 
The desert waste — the bomidless deep ; 
Calling on Ocean, Earth and Air, 
The trophies of her power to rear. 
Making Man's dwelling-place appear 
A glad abode — a region fair, 
Too bright for sorrow, pain or care. 
Ti'ue — ^these are themes of stirring might. 
To rouse his spirit for the flight. 



A poet's tkeasuees. 33 

And give him, when he sweeps the lyre, 
An arm of strength — a sonl of hre. 

But there are lowlier, lovelier things, 
Whose gentle influence round him clings, 
And treasured deep, they long shall shine. 
As jewels in the Poet's mine. 
Ah no ! fond Nature, when she smiled. 
With richer bounties blest her child ; 
She shed, where'er was cast his lot, 
Mysterious beauty round the spot ; 
Where'er his early footsteps fell. 
Breathed o'er and o'er her magic spell, 
Bidding a radiant grace arise 
From objects mean to other eyes ; 
Until his youthful spirit found 
Joyance in every sight and sound. 
And learned to draw from things of sense, 
The symbols of Omnipotence. 
5 



34 



She waked tliroiigli all liis tlirilling frame 
The fibres of a hidden chain, 
That, linked by thousand sympathies, 
In close communion can enwreathe 
Insensate things with those that breathe. 
Through the mysterious force of Love, 
Shed from that Holy Source above. 
And when she gave the piercing eye, 
To drink the glories of the sky. 
She bade its glance, when turned to earth. 
Cherish the lowliest flow'ret's birth. 
And stoop to raise from wanton tread, 
Tlie glow-worm on its grassy bed. 

Oh, many a rushing thought they bear, 
The strong winds in their wild career. 
As if on every sweeping blast, 
Came hidden treasures of the past, 
The magic lore that still untold 



35 



Sleeps in tlie Sage's bosom cold. 
The torrent dashing in its force, 
The streamlet in its gentle course, 
Oh, many a murmured tale they tell 
Of mountain cleft, and tangled dell. 
Where still along their margin bright 
Hover wood-nymph and elfin sprite, 
And deep within the pearly cave. 
Sleeps the glad spirit of the wave. 
Tlie sunbeams, as they glance and play 
Through the soft mist of opening day, 
Painting its mantle, thin and white. 
With many a tint of rosy light. 
Pouring a flood of living gold 
On silent waters, blue and cold. 
Gemming the rippled streamlet bright, 
With thousand stars of silver light. 
Bidding the leafy forest blaze 
'Keath the rich stream of emerald rays. 



36 



Flashing from mountain crag and steep, 
To langli in many a valley deep, 
Glancing on swift and radiant wing, 
To gladden earth's remotest thing. 
For him they spread a feast below. 
Where Love and Beauty ever glow ; 
Oft, glancing through the summer air, 
Bright forms and glittering shapes appear. 
As if pure spirits stooped to hold 
Commerce with child of earthly mould, 
And deigned to fill with visions bright, 
The Poet's dream of joy and light. 



C|e f artiug. 



I WOULD not that my heart should tell 
To her I leave, yet love too well, 
The burst of anguish, like des]3air. 
That made our parting still and drear. 
The mark is here upon my breast, 
Of feelings fearfully repressed. 
Where madly, wildly, yet unmoved. 
Sorrow and Love for outlet strove. 
No broken word — impulsive sign — 
Unlocked the sealed and sacred mine ; 
^o sudden tear, with gushing power. 
Broke through the clouds of that dark hour ; 
It seemed a gloomy, sullen night, 
Without a ray of hope or light. 



38 THEPAETING. 

One glance, one toncli, the spell had riven, 
It was not sought — it was not given : 
But back the inward tide untold. 
Upon life's fount impetuous rolled. 
Ice currents met the burning flow, 
I felt it then — I feel it now — 
Upon my heart, upon my brow. 
That sudden freezing, none may tell. 
How keen the piercing ice-drops fell, 
And slowly — slowly — ^one by one. 
The lava-billows turned to stone. 
And yet that icy pang of pain, 
I dare not lose — nor bear again ; 
Still sense and memory must retain. 
Where'er I roam, the same — the same : 
The voice and image here must dwell. 
Of her I leave — yet love too well. 



Faeewell to the Mountain ! the cold wind is blowin. 

The last wreath of green has long faded away ; 
Tlie mantle of Antumn, with rich colours glowing, 

Already is changing to russet and gray. 



Farewell to the Mountain ! the rude blast is stripping 
The deej) sheltered vale, and the high cliff 's proud form. 

And late where in fragrance the Summer lay sleeping, 
All ruthless and wild sweeps the Spirit of Storm. 

Farewell to the Mountain ! though rugged and bare, 
Oh ! strange is the beauty that still lingers there ; 
More grand is the outline ; and richer the hue 
Of the sun's golden halo through purple and blue. 
And fresher and freer the torrent leaps now. 



4:0 THE FAREWELL SONG. 

All flashing and foaming, o'er bosom and brow. 
And lighter and deeper, with each changing ray, 
ISTow resting, now flitting, the cloud shadows play. 
And still on the verge of dark winter's drear frown. 
The snow-wreath hangs ever a glittering crown. 
And pierced by the sunbeam, a glory more fair, 
A dazzling lustre, her white garments wear ; 
Now glimmer with rainbow hues vivid and bright, 
^N'ow flash back in splendour the diamond's pure light. 

Farewell to the Mountain ! though destined to wander, 
Strong as deep is the charm that hath bound it to me. 

And oft when far distant, shall Memory ponder. 
And sigh for this region, the wild and the free. 

Farewell to the Mountain ! tho' sunny climes greet me, 
And friendship's soft accents fall sweet on mine ear, 

Unchanging and changeless, whatever await me. 
Still fondly, still truly my heart lingers here. 



Cl]^ ^QXtBt €xtt 



Tree of the forest ! oft mine eye 
Hath traced thine outline on the skj, 
And oft, amid the rushing storm, 
Hath watched thy wild, majestic form ; 
Oft marked the Spring, with magic care, 
Thy green and glistening robe prepare. 
And seen the rosy Summer shed 
A richer lustre o'er thy head ; 
Oft watched, thro' morning's glowing hours, 
The sunbeams light thy clustering bowers. 
Or, varied still, the deep'ning play 
Of shadows through thy branches gay ; 
And caught, at eve, the soft, glad voice. 
Ever whispering to rejoice. 



42 THE FOREST TREE. 

Touclied by the breeze whose miirm'ring whig, 

Made every leaf a vocal thing. 

Forest Tree ! thou art alone — 

On thy rich and grassy throne, 

Bright and sparkling is the mound. 

Like a throne with emeralds bound, 

Glittering with many a gem. 

Fit for Fairy diadem ; 

Wreathed with many a flow'ret wild, 

Each, fond Nature's cherished child. 

Shedding from her bosom fair. 

Incense over earth and air, 

Paying thus in odour sweet. 

For the shelter at thy feet. 

Forest Tree ! what heart that loves 

Bright things of the fields and groves. 

And hath felt within it rise, 

Nature's thousand sympathies. 

E'er with stern or heedless eye, 



THE FOREST TREE. 43 

All iTnmarked could pass tliee by ? 
E'er could gaze witli sullen brow, 
On such a glorious thing as thou ? 
Yet, loved Tree ! though every ray. 
Bids new lustre round thee play. 
Though each light breeze hovering by, 
"Wakes some gladdening harmony ; 
Bright'ning 'neath the wand of Spring, 
Touched by Summer's glowing wing, 
Wrapped in Autumn's gorgeous dyes. 
Still a sadness round thee lies. 
Yes, whene'er thy form I view. 
It rises still, anew, anew ; 
Something of a shuddering thrill, 
Boding more of fear than ill ; 
Something of a dreamy thought, 
Yet not all by Fancy wrought ; 
Something of a dim despair, 
Stealing o'er a scene too fair ; 



44 THE FOREST TREE. 

Sometliing of a hidden grief, 

Seeking, heeding not relief. 

Mantling with its icy fold, 

Eonnd the heart, where all untold, 

It must cling, and ever be. 

Fatal mark of Destiny. 

Gleamings from the shadowy Past, 

Images too bright to last, 

Symbols of the fond and gay, 

Blighted, withered by decay. 

These, though breathed they ne'er shall be. 

Throw a dark'ning spell o'er thee ; 

Make thee, blooming Forest Tree, 

Memory's saddening type for me. 



%p iuiicomh farting ^ong. 



We are parting, we are parting, 

Bright Summer's gifts are flown. 
And Autumn's richer treasures 

Have vanished one by one. 

We are parting, we are parting, 

My friends, the blithe, the gay, 
Joy's sparkling beams we've caught the last, 

We must, we must away. 

We are parting, we are parting. 

To the sunny South we go. 
We must leave our own loved mountain haunts, 

To the bleak winds and the snow. 



46 THE BUNCOMBE PARTING SONG. 

Yet often from that softer clime. 

Although it gave us birth, 
Our hearts will turn in lingering love, 

To this fairer spot of earth. 

And if, of all our laughing band, 

A few will lag behind. 
Fearless, though Winter's tyrant grasp 

All lovely things must bind ; 

We would not see their bright eyes dimmed 

By friendship's parting tear ; 
But rather take some smiling pledge. 

That still we shall be dear. 

We are parting, we are parting. 

Yet ere we go, the while, 
We'll promise all to meet again, 

With Spring's first rosy smile. 



THE BUNCOMBE PARTING SONG. 47 

Yes, with sunbeams and with flowers, 
And with all that's bright and fair, 

Through Summer's laughing hours. 
Again we'll cluster here. 



Stan^a^. 



Oh ! breathe not fond, fond words again, 

Unto the broken-hearted; 
Wake not the thrill, whose transient glow 

In anguish hath departed. 

Breathe not ! breathe not the glad'ning song, 
Though they have loved it well and long ; 
Enwreathed beneath its flowery spell, 
There lies a pang they may not tell. 

Let Memory sleep, if, ah ! it will, 
A sleep as dreamless as unwaking ; 

Its twilight glimmer cannot fill 
The void where Hope's fond ray was breaking. 



T A N Z A S . 



49 



Then breathe them not ! though once they threw 
On all around Love's rainbow hue ; 
Words cannot heal the heart that's broken, 
Oh ! leave them then for aye unspoken. 
7 



u mi ^^xxIVb ITifilt, ttt 



On my spirit's light hatli a shadow fallen, 

It will not pass awaj ; 
For oh ! in its darkened hue I feel 

The hand of cold decay. 
I have heard the Spring with her voice of mirth, 
"Waken from slumbers the glad, glad Earth, 
I have watched her footsteps gay and free. 
As they glanced o'er field and bower and tree. 
At her first warm smile, like a fairy spell, 
A beauty hath fallen on hill and dell ; 
At the gleam of her wings in their magic flight. 
Fair things have sprung to life and light, 
And ISTature, as blithe as a frolic child. 
Is drinking in joy as deep as wild. 



ETC. 51 

Sparkling and flashing, far and free, 

Sunshine and shadow are full of glee, 

She is printing it brightly in all tints that glow, 

She is flinging it lightly on all winds that blow, 

And thro' the calm heavens, and thro' the green earth 

Gay creatures are springing to sunshine and mirth. 

I have felt that rush of joy so deep, 

Ere the giant Thought arose from sleep ; 

It was here — it was here, the glow — -the thrill. 

Ere sorrow came with its blight and chill ; 

I^ow sad and changed, from my lieart alone 

There cometh no glad, responsive tone. 

With her glowing step, and radiant eye, 

I know that Summer is drawing nigh, 

I feel her breath on the scented gale ; 

And soon their Queen the flowers shall hail. 
Her eye will lend a warmer light 
To all that now looks fair and bright, 



52 ON MY spirit's light, etc. 

Freely she'll slied from her rosy hand, 

A varied feast o'er the glowing land ; 

On every side, below, above, 

]^ature will meet her with looks of love ; 

But her joy will be calmer and deeper now, 

For a matron's crown is on her brow. 

In a thousand shapes her children fair. 

Shall hail bright Summer through earth and air ; 

To hearts untouched, the glad, the gay. 

Her reign will come as a gala day. 

But mine must shrmk from its smile away. 

Yet I grieve not that a shade hath fallen 

On my spirit once so free ; 
Tliat the thrill of mirth, that the flash of joy, 

Cometh no more to me. 
I feel that I am not as I have been ; 
But Faith is lighting a world within, 
A world that breaks with a purer ray. 



ON myspieit's light, etc. 53 

As Earth and its loved things fade away. 
Brightly, more brightly, its visions fair 
Gleam on my sight, as it draweth near ; 
It hath forms too bright in their glorious guise, 
To gleam in their beauty on earthly eyes ; 
It hath sounds too soft in their music's flow. 
To glad with their echoes this world of woe ; 
And a spirit beams over that world above, 
Piercing all things with its radiant love : 
All, all shall drink of that spirit's breath. 
For it cuUeth e'en flowers from icy death : 
All that lie hid in the shadowy tomb, 
Shall rise at that breathing to life and bloom ; 
Childhood's loved form 'twill give to us 
As we saw it spring in its joy's first flush ; 
Youth as it glowed in life's opening day, 
Hallowed and purer 'neath that deep ray ; 
All that fond Memory here must keep. 
Sacred, and silent — yet treasured deep ; 



54 



All that long years, in their ceaseless flow, 

Have snatched of love from our 2:)atli below ; 

All that like flowers and gems lay strown, 

Making that pathway a radiant zone ; 

Though shadowed and darkened their ardent light, 

Long have we mom-ned them in silence and night, 

And deemed that unheeded — forgotten — -alone. 

We sighed o'er the twilight of lustre that's flown. 

Ye know not that clustered and treasured on high. 

They are veiled but in glory from each earthly eye ; 

Ye know not how brightly their forms will unfold 

To pour on the spirit a raj)ture untold ; 

I feel it — I feel it — Faith's beam from above. 

E'en now it is lighting that region of love. 



#11 l^ariufl mi Sister Sing 



Cease, dearest, cease ! in that loved voice 

There linger tones too deep ; 
They wake the thrilling memories 

That should forever sleep. 

Oh not again — oh not again ! 

My full heart could not bear 
From thee the lightest, simplest strain 

That once it held so dear. 

Then in its rich harmonious flow 
Well may that voice have power 

To call the lost— the hidden things, 
Too sacred for this hour. 



56 ON HEARING MY SISTER SING. 

I feel it throiigli my bursting heart, 

And o'er my reeling brain, 
The whelming flood of thought sweeps by. 

Repressed — repressed in vain. 

For with those accents long unheard. 

The spells of home arise ; 
Its cherished scenes — its mountain paths. 

Its loved and hallowed skies. 

They cluster round, a joyous band. 

The lovely and the gay ; 
Ere from the sweet, domestic wreath. 

One bud was rent away. 

I catch, in murmurs soft and low, 
The tones of childish mirth ; 

I see the flush of feeling glow, 
Too bright, too warm for earth. 



ON HEARING MY SISTER SING. 

Sweet Sister, wlien those loved notes fell, 
Breathing a soft, entrancing spell. 
Young, buoyant hearts, still fresh and free. 
Gave back responsive melody. 
TJntinged with care, all glad, all gay. 
The Present fleeted on its way ; 
The Future flashed, a brilliant thing. 
Without one presage shadowing. 
Ah ! could we deem, with rude assail. 
Time's hand would rend the glittering veil, 
And only of its fragments leave 
Dark shreds for Destiny to weave? 

While others, love, enchanted hear 

Those bursts of melody. 
The echoes of the Past are there, 

Too fondly sad for me. 
8 



57 



Iltttlla. 



Long, long for tliee our liearts shall monrn, 

Thou gentle one and fair ! 
Oft by distracting Memory torn, 

For thee shall flow the silent tear. 

'Twas not disease, with fearful hand. 
That rent thy young life's flowery band ; 
Grief came not near with chilling blight, 
To quench thy spirit's gentle light ; 
Far from thee fell each poisoned dart, 
That rankles in the withered heart ; 
Time had not marked one shadowing care 
On that young brow so fresh and fair. 



FANNY. 59 

Gently had tliy young days passed, 
Scarce tlieir snnsliine overcast, 
And amid such transient sliowers, 
Hope for thee was gathering flowers. 
Softly thy life had glided by, 
Like the rosy tint from yon Summer sky ; 
Still within thy girlish breast 
Childhood's glee was unrepressed ; 
(Of all Earth's gifts the first, the best.) 
Yet like a dream hast thou passed away. 
In the first bright dawn of life's fitful day. 

It seems but now that we blithely wreathed 

For thee the snowy fiowers ; 
Love's hallowed prayer was o'er it breathed. 

For 'twas thy bridal hour. 

Fairest and last of all our group ! 
We thronged around thee there ; 



60 FANNY. 

In calm, confiding innocence, 
"We heard thy young vows given, 
And saw thee bind the sacred link, 
So shortly to be riven. 

Loved one and lost ! we ne'er shall weep 

Above thine early tomb ; 
Earth holds it not — in the ruthless deep 
Thy gentle form for aye must sleep. 
Yes, and its wild waves long will be 
A home — a peaceful home for thee. 



tlitB. 



Eelics of the young and bright, 

Already passed away, 
Where'er I turn, ye meet my sight, 

In sad, in sad array. 

Surely some fearful dream hath fallen. 
Whose chain I cannot break ; 

Oppressed and shuddering, still I sigh, 
"I shall, I shall awake." 

It cannot be that Death hath stilled 
Young hearts so warm and light ; 

It cannot be his touch hath sealed 
Eyes that but now were bright. 



62 EELICS. 

Still Morn with rosy step draws nigli, 
Still wakes the gales her fragrant sigh, 
The golden sun, o'er field and flower. 
Still pours his ray with glad'ning power, 
At balmy eve, the deep blue skies 
Laugh on us with their thousand eyes. 
And fresh and free the wild wind springs, 
Shedding new joy o'er joyous things ; 
The sea — the sky — the fair green earth. 
All Nature hath a tone of mirth. 
And Fancy, with her soothing art, 
Half hides in flowers keen Sorrow's dart. 
Then, loved and lovely — bright and fair, 
I feel they still, they still are there. 
It cannot be — again ye rise, 
Fond, lingering pledges of the past. 
Telling the heart, in words too plain. 
That Past can never come again ; 
Yet mirrored shall each image lie, 



E E L I C S . 63 

Deep in tlie founts of Memory, 

While softly on Faitli's trembling ear 

Shall fall, in accents still and clear, 

That sure-, nnfailing promise given, 

" Such ties are not forever riven." 

Yes, tears that fall in anguish here. 

Shall then like glittering drops appear. 

When, waked from Death's all-grasjDing power, 

We hail with tranquil joy the hour 

Which give us back, more pure — ^more fair 

'Neath Heaven's calm, eternal day. 

Those from Earth's cold and wearing strife. 

E'en in their freshness caught away. 



C|0ug|t^ ill Sainu^^\ 



My spirit never shall be bound 
Witbin a close and narrow sphere ; 
It still shall soar above, around, 
It si3ite of pain, and toil and care. 
To earth, to earth it shall not cling, 
A wearied, yet a grovelling thing. 
Though at stern duty's rugged call 
It learn to rest on folded wing, 
It still shall keep one clear expanse. 
Deep, pure, as yon etherial sky. 
Where Hope shall revel fresh and free. 
And drink new draughts of ecstacy. 
Close veiled as in some holy fane. 
Sacred from thought and touch j^rofane. 



THOUGHTS IN SADNESS. 65 

Oh ! none may know the secret key, 
That opes that hidden fount for me ; 
'Nov deem, unless they learn the spell, 
How it will guard the spirit well. 
And fresh, until it soar away. 
Above this region of decay, 
Lost every trace of death and night. 
To mingle with Eternal Light. 
9 



€\}t gestiiiji. 



And shall I read the stars for thee, 
Mj young and lovely one ? 

And speak the words of destiny, 
Ere years their course have run ? 

I need not grasp thy little hand, 
Though it is soft and fair ; 

E"or mark the pencillings which Fate 
E'en now is tracing there. 

I will not read thy lineaments, 
Though beauty's self hath thrown 

O'er each a blended harmony. 
Which marks them all her own. 



THEDESTINY. 67 

I will not catcli thine eye's soft gleam, 

When it is calm and clear, 
ISTor watch it flash with joy's glad ray, 

Nor glistening 'neatli a tear. 

N'or shall I hear that voice again. 

With dee J), fnll tones that all 
Send through my heart a thrill of pain, 

Whene'er its accents fall. 

I know that each, that every one 

Are signs I dare not donbt ; 
Are spells — ay, sad and silent spells. 

By which Fate's web rolls out. 

Bnt, oh ! I have a surer one, 

Thongh breathed it may not be, 
I feel, I feel that Destiny 

Hath laid its hand on thee. 



68 THE DESTINY. 

Wilt tlioii be loved ? Such words are vain, 

The Sybil's art to try, 
For few will gaze on one so fair, 

With cold or careless eye. 

Tlion wonldst be loved ? Then listen, girl ; 

Crowds at thy feet will sue ; 
But thorns are mingling with the wreath 

That o'er thy path I strew. 

I see young Love encircle thee, 

With soft and rosy light ; 
Beware ! those very hues may turn 

To bitterness and blight. 

And Flattery's silver sounds are there 

Oh ! they will vibrate long ; 
Trust not too far — trust not too far, 

The Syren's soothing song. 



THE DESTINY. 



69 



But wilt thou love ? And shall thy heart, 

In all its fullness given, 
Find aught to recompense its trust, 

A refuge and a haven ? 

Or shall it cold and dreamless lie ? 

Or wake from dreams of bliss. 
To find in every passing scene, 

A void — a nothingness ? 

I pause, I pause — a fearful shade 
Comes o'er the clear, blue sky ; 

I feel the hand of Destiny 
Is strong when thou art nigh. 



I see what seals my trembling lips, 

I read a trial there, 
I see what rends my inmost heart. 

Yet it hath not despair. 



70 THEDESTINY. 

'Tis past — -tlie gloom is flashing all 
With gleams of quivering light ; 

A thousand pure, ethereal rays, 
Are bursting on my sight. 

And, lo ! a new, a glorious thing, 
A vision springs to birth ; 

But, oh ! thy beauty and tliy love 
Have not a touch of earth. 

Tliy cheek hath paled, but in thine eye 
The promised gleam I see ; 

Then truly, truly have I read 
The prescient stars for thee. 



€\}t Si^ter^. 



'TwAs Summer, and the gorgeous sun 

Eejoicing seemed his course to run ; 

Now steeped he cliff and mountain height 

Li many a tint of golden light, 

ITow poured he many a laughing beam 

O'er field, and grove, and glancing stream, 

While in the sleeping vale below, 

The white mist caught a crimson glow ; 

And old and young, the fresh, the gay. 

All wake to court his gladdening ray ; 

At his bright touch soft breezes spring. 

And life and joy are on the wing ; 

But soon, with envious haste, away 

He brushed the pearls from every spray, 



72 THESISTEKS. 

As if, save his, no other care 
Might deck the earth in gems so fair ; 
And, as the giant climbed the sky, 
Each frail thing sunk beneath his eye ; 
Sought refuge from its searching power, 
In sheltered grove, and clustering bower. 

Then, in a garden's cool retreat, 
Beneath the spreading shade. 
Where green turf formed a rustic seat, 

Two lovely children played. 
One was a bright and sylph-like thing, 
For mischief ever on the wing ; 
!N"ow, with a lavish hand, she'd strew 
Around her flowers of every hue, 
Now weave them in a chaplet fair 
Of wreaths to deck her golden hair. 
The other was a thoughtful child. 
Of soft blue eyes, and temper mild ; 



THESISTERS. 73 

In her small hand she clasjD'd a book, 
On which she gazed with joyous look ; 
It was a little book, I ween, 
Which children read and read again ; 
It told them of a lady bright. 
Shut up in dungeon dark as night ; 
(All through an envious rival's spite.) 
It told them of a fairy queen, 

A good and beauteous fairy sprite. 
Who sought her darksome cell unseen. 

And heard her groans, that lady bright, 
And broke her chains by fairy spell, 
And brought her back to life again, 
To joyous life and light. 
Ah ! many a wondrous tale it wove. 
That little book all children love. 
She listened while her sister read, 

That gay, that joyous one ; 
Her glistening eyes were bent on earth, 
10 



74 THESISTERS. 

The flowers half-liid her lovely head ; 
And ere the fairy tale was done, 

Thus poured her song of childish mirth. 

THE WISH. 

" I would I were a fairy sprite, 

This very, very Summer's day ; 
I'd float away on wings of light, 

O'er hill and dale and meadow gay : 
I'd flutter round each scented flower. 
That opens to the morning hour, 
Swift as a sunbeam would I glance, 
"Wliere bright fays hold their revel dance. 

Within some rosy bower. 
Then in a bright and tiny boat, 
Along some glittering stream I'd float, 
Touch gently on some silvery strand, 
Or pearly grot on fairy land ; 
And when too fierce the sunbeams fell, 



THE SISTERS. 



75 



I'd slumber in a lily's bell, 
To music waked by fairy spell, 
Or, I would find sucli sweet repose, 
Embosomed in a fragrant rose. 
And every gay and gaudy flower, 
Should be my borne eacb changing hour." 

Her book the fair young reader closed, 

To hear this merry song, 
And with a look of calm delight. 
She paused and listened long ; 
But as it ceased, a saddening shade, 

A shade of darker hue. 
Stole o'er those clear, and upraised eyes, 

(Eyes of soft, melting blue ;) 
" Ah ! Leila, wherefore wouldst thou stray, 
From our loved home and haunts away ? 
Think you that other gardens bear 
Far lovelier flowers than cluster here ? 



76 THESISTEES. 

Think you tliat softer streamlets flow, 
Tliat sunbeams shed a richer glow, 
Or that there meets a happier band, 
E'en in the haunts of fairy land, 
Than when my brothers with us play, 
Here thro' the live-long Summer's day ? 

THE WISH. 

Ah ! no, I'd rather be a flower, 

The very simplest, smallest flower. 

That rears its head 'neath sun and shower. 

Within our own, our childhood's bower. 

Yes, I would grow in this loved spot, 

A little star Forget-me-not, 

Or Violet, with its deep blue eye, 

Forever turning to the sky. 

I'd make that glorious sky my book. 

And I would read its every look ; 

And each soft-flitting change should be, 



THESISTERS. TT 

A new and varied leaf to me. 

At niglit, enfolded would I lie 

Beneatli its calm and stany eye ; 

Wliile Morn, with joyous beam, should break 

O'er my green coucb, and bid me wake : 

Its fresli and balmy breath should bear, 

In incense sweet, my murmured prayer 

Of thanks and praise for every ray, 

That smiled through each returning day ; 

While every sound of life and glee, 

Tliat broke from earth, or bower, or tree, 

Would wake within my little heart, 

A deep, deep tone of answering mirth. 

If storms should rise, and bleak winds blow, 

(For come they must to all, you know,) 

I'd droop my little trembling head, 

And shrink within my leafy bed, 

Then draw me nearer to the earth, 

Whose fragrant lap first gave me birth: 



T8 THESISTEES. 

And thou, perhaps, m}'' fairy sprite. 
Would hurry back, in sad affright ; 
Then would I clasp thee in these arms. 
And shield thee safe from all alarms ; 
And when the sun, with glorious light. 
Bade ISTature look all calm and bright. 
Sweet sister, 'neath its genial power, 

Each fear allayed, each danger past, 
Thou'dst smile and own, in that soft hour. 

The safest, sunniest spot at last. 
Is this, our loved, our childhood's bower." 



f 1^ §xtM\n. 



Thou callest her a dreamer, 

In pity, oil ! forbear ; 
Breathe not such words of omen, 

Upon her youthful ear. 

Thou callest her a dreamer ; 

Ah ! little canst thou know, 
How heavy falls the presage 

Of a deep and shadowing woe. 

Thou callest her a dreamer ; 

Break not, break not the spell. 
That bids a balmy freshness 

Still on her spirit dwell. 



80 THEDEEAMEK. 

Tliou callest lier a dreamer ; 

Let Fancy hold its power, 
And revel in its magic sway, 

One sliort, one glittering hour. 

Oh ! let her taste, without alloy, 

One draught from that bright fount of joy, 

To breathe through all her glowing mind, 

A rapture bright as undefined, 

A very ecstacy of bliss ; 

Earth hath no second gift like this : 

A sacred pledge to hallow still 

Her spirit from a touch of ill. 

To bid it higher, higher spring. 

On aspiration's purest wing, 

A gleaming to the soul, just given, 

Of immortality — of Heaven. 



THEDKEAMER. 81 

Thou callest her a dreamer ; 

It must, it must be so, 
Alas ! she may not, if she would. 

Such destiny forego. 

And scarce, oh ! scarce herself may tell, 
How first such trance-like rapture fell ; 
Breathings soft as fairy song, 
Images, a radiant throng, 
Hopes, whose glowing pinions bear, 
Hues the future ne'er shall wear, 
Visions of celestial birth, 
All too bright to mix with earth. 
Oh ! in pity, still forbear ! 
Whisper not a change is near. 
Still one moment, still forbear ! 
Breathe not on her ravished ear, 
11 



82 THE DREAMER. 

That it all is but a seeming, 
And from such ecstatic dreaming, 
Though it long her senses steep, 
Rudely she must wake, and weep. 



€a nijj (Elhst iaji. 



Sportive and gay — bright and wild — • 
How shall I paint thee, lovely child ? 
Of all Earth's fair and cherished things, 
Softly around thee some image clings ; 
In the joyous gleam of thy laughing eye, 
Thou hast caught the tint of the summer sky, 
Or now its darkened shadows tell. 
Of the hue that lurks in the violet's bell. 
The mountain snow its wreath hath thrown 
Around thy brow, my lovely one ; 
And morning's rosy light is there, 
Tinting thy cheek with its promise fair ; 
E'en thy tear drops fall like glittering dew, 
While sunny smiles are struggling through. 



84 TOMYELDESTBOY. 

And the laugh of thy young, free bosom thrills, 

Like the music of my own soft rills ; 

Wild o'er thy frame is a spirit rushing. 

Warm from the depths of thy young heart gushing ; 

Kind Heaven's own gift, a pledge of joy, 

'No rude hand may blight it, my gentle boy ; 

It shall float with the zephyr in gladness and mirth. 

It shall glance with the sunbeam o'er fair things of earth ; 

It will bound in its freshness, far and free. 

And catch from the wild winds new tones of glee. 

The green leaf's bright glitter, the streamlet's soft flow, 

The gay tinted flower, the cloud's crimson glow, 

The snow mist that floats on the blue mountain's side. 

The rich changing shadows that laugh o'er the tide. 

These — these thy young spirit its treasures shall deem, 

And pure things grow purer when touched by its gleam. 

Thou shalt wander with Nature, my boy — my boy. 
And drink at her fountain bright draughts of joy ; 



TOMTELDESTBOY. 85 

Fancy shall meet thee with treasured things, 
Shedding rich lines from her glorious wings ; 
It shall lead thee on, Hope's burning star, 
To visions which glitter like gems afar ; 
But oft 'neath thy footsteps the promised ray. 
Like a fairy spell must melt away. 
Yet pause not, my child, for a deep, pure stream. 
Shall steep thy path in its wave's bright gleam ; 
It flows from the founts where mingled lie. 
The springs of all woe and ecstacy. 
Now bounding on its glad, free course. 
Its waves shall dash with a torrent's force ; 
ISTow still and deep, shall its waters roll, 
A flood of joy o'er thy young, fresh soul. 
Flowers shall float along its tide. 
Flinging their fragrance far and wide ; 
Bright forms shall glance on its mirror clear. 
Where each pictured image is fair, more fair. 



86 TOMYELDESTBOY. 

Fond, soft tones are mingled there, 

Whose echoes long shall haunt thine ear ; 

Thou shalt freight thj bark with all treasured things. 

And glad thoughts shall lend thee their buoyant wings. 

Yes, brightly, brightly, clustering there, 

Will meet the gay — the fresh — the fair. 

Young Love's brilliant light is streaming. 

Friendship's milder ray is beaming ; 

Fairy hands are strewing fast. 

Flowers o'er deck, and sail, and mast ; 

Swift-winged hours are bearing thee. 

Farther and farther on Life's wide sea ; 

Yet 'mid thy spirit's joyous flight. 

Say, shall no shadowing presage fall ? 

That oft, ere dimmed its ardent light. 
Shall disappointment, like a pall. 

Care's dulling touch, and sorrow's blight. 

Turn all its gladness into night ? 



TOMYELDESTBOY. 87 

Yes, when thy gay bark spreads its sail, 

To each soft breath of pleasure's gale, 

Shalt thou ne'er dream that quicksands hide, 

Beneath the still and glassy tide ? 

Tho' wrapped in slumber, calm and deep, 

Wilt thou not doubt the ocean's sleep ? 

Alas ! those fair gleams may beguile ; 

Yet trust not thus a treacherous smile : 

As on its course thy vessel flies. 

Unseen, unheard must tempests rise ; 

In sudden gusts the rude winds wake. 

High o'er its head the wild waves break, 

And oft returning, sweep away. 

From deck, and mast, and awning gay. 

Some precious gem that lent its light. 

Some fairy wreath or garland bright. 

Some treasured thing, some much-prized form, 

No love could shelter from the storm. 



88 T O M Y E L D E S T B O Y . 

Yet quail not in that fearful hour, 
Though fiercer tempests round thee lower ; 
Think not tlio' waves with wilder might, 
And frowning clouds, as dark as night. 
When night is veiled in deepest black. 
Seem closing round thy vessel's track. 
To guide thee, loved one, and to save, 
E'en now it gleams upon mj sight, 
I see it flashing far and bright ; 

A promised beam — a beacon light — 
Lo ! on its ray a spirit glides, 

A glorious spirit, at whose smile. 
All silent grow the raging tides. 

And every wave along the deep, 

Is sunk, and calmed, and hushed to sleep. 

Thou, too, art slumbering — 'Soft thy rest, 
As on a fond, fond Mother's breast. 



TOMYELDESTBOY. 89 

For thy frail bark, a pilot given, 
Hath gently neared its promised haven. 
See ! with a smile of heavenly light. 
She bids thee hail that region bright, 
Where clouds in vain would seek to rise, 
And all are pure beneath its skies. 
12 



ITiiu^ torittcn during ^llvitBB. 



Oh ! I am still a watcher with the stars, 

For round my heart a withering pang of pain 

Yet clings, as if 'twould dry Life's fountain up, 

And freeze the sources whence my spirit flows. 

Yes, from my weary couch I see depart. 

Each calm and solemn guardian of the night, 

That wraps Creation in such deep repose. 

Nature once more puts on her garb of light ; 

'Tis still the time of flowers, and her soft voice 

Wakes all things breathing into joyous life ; 

Save where, within some frames, the lingering throb 

Of pain or anguish stills such gladdening call. 

In vain, for them, the balmy wing of morn 

Comes charged with health, and fresh-returning hope ; 



LINES WRITTEN DURING ILLNESS. 91 

The languid soul shrinks from her radiant smile, 

As all too bright to soothe its inward woe. 

Yet there are feelings that the freezing touch 

Of anguish may not blight. 

IS^ay, e'en from suffering's self may balm arise, 

Which to each wound shall gentle solace bring. 

As from the oft-bruised flower, sweet odours spring. 

Yes, favoured mortals ! ye for whom gay health 

Is opening all her lavish stores of bliss. 

Ah ! little do ye dream, how in some frames, 

Tlie ardent spirit glows more bright and firm, 

As from the gross, material things of earth 

It draws less nourishment, and fades away ; 

And the affections that have shed a ray 

Through life's past hours — • 

They too will gain new strength. 

Even from passive Nature's slow decay, 

And burn with })urer light, as if 'twere given. 

To cheer earth's gloom and show our path to Heaven. 



filt'n iwta. 



If this ever-sliifting scene, 
What must be and what hath been, 
Freight of joy — freight of sorrow. 
Lightening — ^darkening for to-morrow- 
Toil on toil, and strife on strife, 
Which we call our mortal life ; 
Strife as with a dauntless foe, 
Toil that worketh weal or woe. 
Restless — endless — ceaseless motion. 
Of Time's ever-rolling ocean, 
Power strong above control 
Bearing us with onward roll ; 
Be this our appointed lot, 
Let us strive and murmur not. 



life'sduty. 93 

Welcome every rising bubble, 
Only fraught with passing trouble ; 
Welcome waves that roll and break 
On the prow, and in the wake. 
Fear not danger, fear not pain, 
So they leave no lasting stain ; 
Shrink not thou from care or toil. 
So they leave no earthly soil : 
Trembler at the adverse hour. 
Welcome e'en its ruthless power ; 
When the storms are round thee cast, 
Swerve not till their work is passed, 
Though they circle thee around. 

Darkening earth, and sea, and sky. 

With a pall-like majesty, 
" They have their appointed bounds." 



Steadfast ^x thy soul, thine eye ; 
Secret power shall them assuage, 



94 



Hand unseen shall still their rage. 
Enter then the thunder-cloud. 
There is light beyond its shroud ; 
Dark, tho' darker grows thy lot. 
Light and calm, oh ! doubt it not, 
To the steadfast will be given. 
The mysterious boon of heaven. 
Bravely, bravely, onward speed, 
Tliere is strength for every need. 
Sorely pressed, on rocks we tread, 
Through life's varied pilgrimage ; 
Rocks give footing firm and bold. 
To steps that sink in softer mould ; 
From each beetling cliff we dread, 
Gather strength for heart and head ; 
From each bleak and cutting wind. 
Health of body — ^health of mind. 
Every crag and every shoal. 
Brings us nearer to the goal ; 



95 



Each rude jar of ill or harm, 
Stirs the spirit, nerves the arm. 
Till the gentle hand and slight, 
Learn to guide the vessel right. 
True of soul, and firm of will, 
Onward borne and bearing still, 
Only keep thy spirit free. 
Heir of Immortality ! 



Cl]iU|O0^'^ ^GlttB. 



Ye voices of my childhood, 

So rich in joyous glee, 
Your echoes, hushed thro' long, long years. 

Come freshly back to me. 

Ye faces of my childhood, 

And forms so loved of yore. 
Through the clear and opening vista, 

To gleam on me once more. 

The warm, fresh grasp of childhood, 

Unchilled by doubt or pain. 
Hand, interlocked with loving hand, 

I feel your grasp again. 



97 



Fond, circling arms, and eyes up-raised, 
That knew themselves so true, 

I will not doubt of human love. 
If I may gaze on you. 

The treasures of my childhood, 

Rock, cliff and leafy bower. 
With many a glittering dew-gem. 

And many a tinted flower. 

The bright and sloping hill side. 

The calm and shady nook. 
Where my first childish lessons 

Were learned from Nature's book. 

High mountain and deep valley, 
And woodland soft and green, 

With darkened hue, and quivering light. 
As sunbeams glanced between. 
13 



98 



The ever-glistening river, 

On whicli those sunbeams fell, 

That mnrmnred onward, onward, 
With a voice too glad to tell. 

And the clouds with flitting shadows. 
With shapes that change and grow, 

Strange, wondrous strange of form and tint. 
And glorious of hue. 

iJ^ow clad in snowy vesture, 
l!^ow wrapped in crimson glow, 

A rich and varied halo. 

O'er earth's green face they throw. 

And then the still and placid sky, 

The calm, ethereal blue. 
With its stars, those glittering wonders. 

Forever, ever new. 



99 



First one by one, then numberless, 

They grow upon the sight, 
'Till Earth and Heaven, and Heaven and Earth, 

Seemed merged in dreamy light. 

Then last of all, and dearest. 

The hushed and deep repose. 
The still and healthful slumber. 

That happy childhood knows. 

Take back Life's after pleasures, 

Its hoards of doubtful gain. 
Give me my childhood's treasures. 

With my childhood's heart again. 



Lof 



ti a hig|t ChuiJ. 



Shade from my sight yon rosy tint, 

I may not gaze upon it now ; 
These aching balls are bursting nigh, 

Though marble seems this icy brow. 

Nature so prized in gentler hours, 
ISTo longer soothes my burning brain, 

Each much-loved feature seems to wear 
A smile in mockery of my pain. 

Yet, why this plaint ? We should not wish 
Our woes to cloud a face so fair ; 

Thousands are living on her gaze, 
She cannot pause to shed a tear. 



ON A BRIGHT CLOUD. 101 

Nay, let one streak of placid bine 

Steal gently through the casement nigh, 

Faith's emblem of Eternity ! 
And oh ! those deep heart moving stars, 

They tell of worlds of peace above ; 
They bid e'en suffering self be calm. 

And trust the Fountain of all Love. 



t ^^'^'^ ^^^^ ^^un 



A FRAGMENT. 

We shall meet again — we shall meet again ! 
Who hath not heard such fond words spoken ? 
Who hath not to the promise clung, 
And caught its accents o'er and o'er, 
To treasure deep in Memory's store ? 
As though to hearts with anguish wrung. 
It bore a charm to lull the pain, 
Of ties, perchance forever, broken. 

We shall meet again — we shall meet again ! 
Words cherished long, but all in vain. 



C0 



W And wouldst thou have me ever thus, 

Unchanged, unchanging, ever thus ? 
With step as gay and brow as fair. 
And eye, whose never varying beam 
Keflects a mirror, calm and clear ; 
The light of inward thought serene. 
When Love and Peace the bosom share. 
And o'er the features shall it play. 
The smile, that radiant smile, whose gleam 
The full heart's messenger doth seem. 
Ere it hath caught one saddening tinge ? 
Or, dearer far, though scarce expressed, 
The simple harmony that holds 
Each word and action in control. 



104: TO 

Stilling tlie rude and jarring chords, 
That mar the music of the soul ; 
As if some halcyon spirit poured 
Its breathings o'er life's ruffled way, 
Bidding the troubled waves grow calm. 
Beneath the magic of its ray. 

And wouldst thou have me ever thus. 
Unchanged, unchanging, ever thus ? 
Then give me back, oh ! give me back. 
The first, the fleeting, sunny hours, 
Ere childhood yielded up its sway. 
And saw its treasures thrown away ; 
Its cherished things, its thornless flowers. 
Forgotten all, neglected quite ; 
Bartered for toys, the new and gay. 
And seeming gems, whose sparkling rays. 
Caught from young Fancy's ardent light. 
Gave out a flashing quick and bright, 



TO 105 

To gleam illusive on tlie sight. 
Their very lustre sheds a blight. 
Or take away from Memory's book 
The page, the oft-recurring page, 
Where once gay Hope her halo threw 
So rich in every glowing hue ; 
Where Fancy with her raptured mien. 
Bade new enchantment deck the scene, 
While Love with too delusive art 
Found spells to lure the trusting heart, 
Breathing a vow with every ray 
That fell along Life's sunny way ; 
Tliat 'neath his touch that path might seem 
As glittering as a Fairy dream ; 
What recked he, so deceit and wile. 
Could but the transient hour beguile. 
14 



€\}t (^Irniiug foEr. 



The evening hour — the evening hour, 
It hath clouds of every hue, 

That fall like gorgeous drapery. 
O'er the calm and silent blue. 

Tlie evening hour — the evening hour, 
With its varied tones of mirth. 

That softer and yet softer grow, 
As it lulls the gentle earth. 

The evening hour — the evening hour, 
Oh ! it hath countless eyes, 

That, bright and spirit-like in ray, 
Peer even through the skies. 



THE EVENING HOUR. 

And liatli it not a secret cliarm, 

A soft and balmy spell ? 
That makes it dear to pensive hearts, 

More dear than words can tell. 

For many a loved and dreamy thought, 

And fancy sad and wild. 
Alone for sympathy hath sought. 

Beneath its radiance mild. 

Oh ! there are sorrows all untold, 

Their icy cords that draw 
Around the seared and blighted heart, 

ISTo other smile can thaw. 

Yet steal through evening's softened light 

Gleams of a vanished bliss, 
That pale and shrouded give no ray, 

Save for an hour like this. 



107 



108 THE EVENING HOUR. 

And forms that are but phantoms now, 
Tones that have ceased to thrill. 

Oh ! come they not ? oh ! come they not. 
This cherished hour to fill ? 

It is not 'neath the gaudy day 
Fond memory dares to wake. 

She feels its rude and garish eye, 
Her hallowed spells would break. 

The evening hour ! the evening hour ! 

To happy hearts it brings, 
Oh ! many a glad and soothing dream, 

That from their fullness springs. 

And visions that the Future weaves, 
Too fond, too bright they rise, 

Beneath the glowing touch of Hope, 
For life's oft-clouded skies. 



THE EVENING HOUR. 109 

The evening hour ! the evening hour ! 

It hath a charm for all, 
But oh ! to worn and weary hearts, 

Most precious is its fall. 



lufaMtig i^autjj af ftiitur^ 



" The beauty of the year is past." 
What words, what words are these ? 

Who dares such heartless slight to cast, 
On Autumn's faded leaves ? 

Think you, though Nature lay aside, 

Her robe of festive green, 
And bid her handmaids safely hide 

Her jewels and her wreaths. 

(And fickle is the dame as fair ; 

For purpose of her own, 
She wills a sombre dress to wear, 

Instead of flower or zone.) 



UNFADING BEAUTY OF NATURE. Ill 

Tliink you that she can thus efface. 

The charms that never change, 
The simple majesty and grace, 

Tliat still around her reign ? 

They love her not — they love her not. 

Who deem her then less fair ; 
Nor still in every varying change, 

Find beauty new and rare. 

Ah ! now she wears her robe of flowers, 

A fresh and brilliant thing, 
A thousand soft and rising charms, 

Their lustre o'er her fling. 

Where'er she turns, no eye unmoved 

Upon her form may dwell. 
No heart so cold and desolate. 

But feels her sunny spell. 



112 UNFADING BEAUTY OF NATURE 

'Tis past, and on her lofty brow 

A chastened spirit beams, 
The light of new-awakened thought. 

In every movement gleams. 

A noble dignity of mien. 
Tinged with a shade of care, 

Besj)eak the matron and the qneen ; 
Oh ! is she then less fair ? 

And though the winning smile be fled. 

Do not her features wear 
A pensive grandeur in its stead. 

The truly wise revere ? 

What heeds she if of all the train 
That worshipped at her shrine. 

And deem'd her in her gayer hours 
So lovely, so divine. 



UNFADING BEAUTY OF NATURE. 113 

What heeds she if the gay, the light, 

That fluttered in her ray, 
Now chilled and wearied, take to flight. 

With Joy's short summer day ? 

She knows that hearts, the noble ones. 

The faithful and the tried. 
Whose wanderings thro' Life's chequered paths. 

Her love hath purified, 

Will turn with fond and raptured gaze. 

Of mingled trust and pride. 
To One who never hath betrayed. 

The Eefuge and the Guide. 

Still from each deep and hallowed spring. 

Shall sacred homage pour, 
To her, the bright mysterious thing, 

None know but to adore. 
15 



C|e Corrent. 



I SAW a rushing torrent, 
As it swept in joj along, 

I caught the wild, glad music, 
Of its deep and murmured song. 

A gay young vine was flinging 
Its tendrils, green and light. 

O'er the bosom of the waters, 
Oh ! 'twas a beauteous sight. 

All clustered o'er with flowers, 

As brilliant as the day, 
"Well might it glad those waters, 

As they swept in joy away. 



f> 



THE TORRENT . 

The bright waves kissed each blossom, 

As it floated on the tide, 
And paused to catch its fragrant breath, 

With mingled love and pride. 

Then softer grew the nmrmured tone 
Of its voice so glad and low ; 

" Oh ! I will love thee, ever love, 
Till I cease, I cease to flow." 

Each moment brought them new delight, 
They caught each wandering ray. 

And that young, fond, and clinging thing. 
Seemed the gayest of the gay. 

I came again — 'twas summer, 
And the sun was glancing high ; 

He looked o'er hill and bower. 
With a fierce and searing eye. 



115 



116 THE TOKKENT. 

Again I caught the silvery sound 
Of the stream's unceasing flow, 

And still along its laughing tide, 
Bright flowers were seen to glow. 

But where was now the favourite one, 
Of spring's first budding hours. 

With its fond wild tendrils, gay and light. 
Its loved and clustering flowers ? 

Still to the mossy bank it clung. 

In lingering despair. 
Its flowers all shed, its green leaves dead. 

Decay's chill blight was there. 

Oh ! when the spring's gay hours were flown. 
And summer called the year her own. 
Say, had she shrank, in fear and fright. 
As the sun looked down with fiercer might ? 



THE TORRENT. 



117 



And all unsheltered, left the stream, 
To meet alone his ardent beam ? 
Then well-deserved, though sad, her lot, 
To pme, to die, and be forgot. 

Ah, no ! her fond heart ne'er conld cower ; 
Bravely she met that trying hour, 
Entwined each leaf and tender flower. 
To catch his rays and break their power. 

Her cool, refreshing mantle spread, 
Above the streamlet's glistening bed, 
Her soft breath to the zephyr gave. 
To fan the bosom of the wave. 

Yain all her care— her love as vain ; 
A broken charm links not again, 
Unkind and cruel, in a day, 
The faithless torrent shrank away. 



118 THE TORRENT. 

And left lier, ay, without a sigli, 
To pine in anguish and to die. 

All unheeding — all unheeding, 
Still it sweeps its course along. 

And to flowers fresh and lovely, 
Still it pours that whispered song. 

Finds them trusting and believing. 
For they fear not till too late ; 

False as gay, that smile deceiving. 
Lures them to the lost one's fate. 

Check, lady, check those falling tears. 
Weep not at seeming woe ; 

Enough, enough, that coming years, 
Must cause them oft to flow. 



THE TORRENT. 119 

Knowest thou not, in life's first hours, 
Youthful hearts are fresh ai^gay. 

And springing hopes are bright and fair, 
As the flowers of opening day ? 

Hast thou not heard that Love's first dream 
Comes as a swiftly flowing stream ? 
Soft as that song its vows are spoken. 
As gaily breathed, as lightly broken. 

Now some new form is deemed divine. 
Love worships at some other shrine ; 
While none may tell, tho' many try, 
The long, the lingering agony 
Of heart, each fond hope rent away^ 
Left thus to wither and decay. 



^UtEllllU 



Calm and serene, o'er hill and dale, 

"With measured step bold Autumn came ; 

His annual task had just begun. 

'Tis his to wander with the sun, 

Three changing months, o'er Earth's fair face, 

Shedding rich hues and softening grace ; 

And haply too, in sterner mood. 

To mar that grace bj touches rude. 

But far away such fancy now. 

For sunbeams shed a heightened glow 

O'er his warm cheek and ruddy brow, 

As, bending 'neath the radiant store, 

The treasures of the year he bore. 

Bright Summer marked his step afar. 



AUTUMN. 121 

And sighed to think her reign was o'er : 

Lightly she glided to his side. 

Blushing and lovely as a bride ; 

^o shadows fell to cast alloy, 

Their meeting seemed all joy, all joy. 

The children, too, her favourite flowers. 
Cherished and loved through sunny houi-s. 
They crowded round in glorious guise, 
Laughed on him with their radiant eyes, 
Shook from their fairy wings perfume, 
As in the joyous time of June. 
On went the loved and lovely pair. 
They dreamt not that rude storms were near ; 
Nor that sharp, chilling blasts would rise. 
Dark mantling clouds, and frowning skies, 
Nor, worse than all, that Discord's hand, 
"Would mar a union now so bland. 
Gaily, with light and jocund steps, 
16 



122 AUTUMN. 

Along tlie smiling plain they moved, 
Spreading a rich and varied scene, 
O'er sloping hill and meadow green ; 
For brightly in their laughing train. 
Came blushing fruit and golden grain ; 
And glancing o'er the mountain's side, 
The wild vine threw its purple pride. 
While streamlets, waked to frolic play. 
Rushed swifter on their glittering way ; 
It seemed as if, in sportive mirth. 
Young Spring again had sought the earth. 
And Joy waved high his pinions bright. 
As if old Care ne'er dimmed their light. 

Alas ! as on their course they flew, 
Unseen, the tempest clouds pursue. 
Strange, that 'mid flowers and wreathed smiles. 
Discord should weave her darkest wiles. 
And dart her fangs, with subtle art. 



AUTUMN. 123 

Deep into sunny Autumn's heart ; 

Leaving a track of lurid hue, 

Where all her sister fiends crept through. 

At first their victim scarce revealed, 

The poison through his veins distilled ; 

But soon would varying shadows chase 

From his clear brow its tranquil grace ; 

Then too, a feeling more defined, 

Would vent itself in word unkind. 

Or it would cast a chilling look, 

One that gay Summer ill could brook ; 

For at its glance of haughty pride. 

The fairest favourites shrank aside. 

And hung their heads with sudden blight, 

As at the touch of frosty night. 

Yet would she check these first alarms ; 

Bend softly o'er their trembling forms, 

With fond caresses gently strive, 

To bid each drooping bud revive ; 



124 AUTUMN. 

Then brush away her gathering tears, 
The harbingers of future fears. 
Yet save these signs no altered mien 
Marked aught that told her bosom's pain ; 
J^aj, she would wear a calmer brow, 
And give her cheek a deeper glow. 
And arm her smiles with softer power. 
And deck with richer hues each flower ; 
Then strew them with a hand more gay, 
^ To chase all shadows far away. 
Ah ! little did her spirit deem, 
Guileless and bright as Love's first dream. 
How torn, distorted, void of rest. 
What fearful strife will rack the breast. 
When Envy shows her haggard face. 
And hateful Jealousy finds place ; 
She knew not that each simple wile, 
Each playful art, and sunny smile. 
Once — once so prized now only seemed 



AUTUMN. 125 

A snare, and each encircling flower 
A link to bind liim in her power ; 
Or that he deemed her magic wand 
In soft enchantments wrapped the land, 
"WTiich still triumphant owned her care, 
Her glittering crown still bade her wear, 
For, ruling him, she ruled the year. 

Thus all-unconscious, did her hand, 
Add double venom to the wound ; 
The richer glow her charms displayed. 
Still darker spread the gathering shade ; 
The more transcendent seemed her power. 
Heavier the threatening tempests lower. 
And so it chanced, one luckless day, 
Though nought gave presage, all was gay ; 
The bright-eyed sun, with radiant power. 
Glanced swift and far o'er hill and bower ; 



126 AUTUMN. 

As thro' Night's veil its glad beams broke 
To joyous life all ]S"ature woke ; 
The green leaves took a glittering hue, 
The soft sky looked more deeply blue, 
And zephyrs wild with frolic glee, 
Flung grateful odours far and free. 
Summer amid the light- winged hours 
Moved radiant with her train of Jlowers. 
]^ow gaily o'er the plain they glance, 
'Now mingle in the festive dance ; 
Kow fling their garlands gay and light, 
O'er rock and vale and sunny height, 
And wearied now she sinks to rest. 
On turf with buds and flow'rets drest ; 
In slumber seals her radiant eyes. 
Lulled by all E"ature's harmonies. 

Distant at first, and now more near. 
Autumn had watched her gay career ; 



AUTUMN. 127 

In sullen mood he walked apart, 
The fiend was busy at his heart. 

AUTUMN. 

" Yainly with each returning year, 
I shed rich gifts with lavish care, 
Yainly I strew with gold the field, 
And bid the vine her clusters yield, 
The blushing fruit, the rosy wine. 
Where'er they glow, are gifts of mine. 
Yet graceless l^ature scarce repays. 
My treasures with a look of praise ^ 
No ! ever brilliant, ever gay. 
Still Summer steals all hearts away ; 
"Wliere'er she turns new beauties rise. 
And fair things spring beneath her eyes. 
And even her flow'rs, each flaunting one 
That gaily opens to the sun. 
Still from her hand their lustre steal, 



128 AUTUMN. 

And at her touch new grace reveal ; 
Then, fondly clinging to her side, 
They bloom but to increase her pride. 
Why do I pause ? one sudden blow, 
Will lay these haughty favourites low, 
And the proud fair one soon shall own, 
That bright gifts are not hers alone ; 
While ISTature, trembling, long shall fear 
To bid her rule the glowing year." 

Quickly athwart the calm, blue heaven. 
Rushed the dark clouds in fury driven ; 
The sun withdrew his radiant eye. 
And chill and wild the wind swept by ; 
Fiercer as the tempest lowered. 
Beneath its shock the tall tree cowered ; 
All living things in wild affright. 
Sought refuge from its coming might. 
Such sounds and sights around her broke. 



AUTUMN. 129 

As Summer from her dream awoke ; 
Fairy spells that dream was weaving, 
As soft as Love and as deceiving ; 
Aghast, she saw the coming storm. 
And flew to shield her flowers from harm ; 
With hurried steps she sought her bower. 
Her rosy bower, where oft had paused 
Old Time to chide the laughing hours, 
While gladdening Mirth, from every spray. 
Waked into life the garish day. 

Whence comes that shrill and piercing cry ? 
What sight of dread hath met her eye ? 
Her flowers, her fairest favourites, die ! 
Keener and keener rose the blast ; 
The hardiest ones were yielding fast ; 
Some, seized with fatal wild affright. 
Give to the winds their petals bright ; 
Some hide with cunning art their heads, 
17 



130 AUTUMN. 

And shrink into their leafy beds. 
All, all is vain, — it may not be ; 
From waving bough and sheltering tree. 
In radiant showers they seek the ground, 
And pale and dead lie scattered round. 
From her loved bower poor Summer rushed, 
A torrent from her bright eyes gushed. 
Her hands have torn in wild despair. 
The flower- wreaths from her golden hair ; 
She bids them share the bitter fate, 
That all their sister buds await ; 
Wild and dishevelled, flies to meet 
The faithless one, who once had laid 
His richest treasures at her feet. 
And vowed to live but in her smile ; 
Such vows might well fond hearts beguile. 

" Cruel and false, is this thy faith, 
Already on my joys to frown ? 



AUTUMN. 131 

Was it for this, unsought, unsued, 
I yielded up my glittering crown ? 
Ay, and without a sigh resigned 
My rosy sceptre to thy hand, 
Whilst thou didst vow, with promise fair. 
My flowers should be thy sacred care ? 
False, treacherous wiles have laid them low, 
Thy frantic arm hath dealt the blow. 
See, tyrant, borne on every wind. 
Their wounded forms no shelter find. 
In dust their glittering fragments lie, 
Their oft-crushed odours reach the sky. 
While the loved hand that gave their bloom. 
In vain would snatch them from the tomb. 
In vain must mourn their transient birth. 
Who decked each opening bud with mirth." 

( Unfinished.) 



C|^ ^tars. 



Say, liave ye sought with gaze intent, 
The silent heavens above us bent. 
And met those deep and earnest eyes, 
Forever peering thro' the skies ? 
Shining through measureless expanse. 
With a calm and moveless glance ; 
• Countless — gloriously bright — 
Each with quenchless-spirit light, 
Piercing e'en the passive soul, 
With a power beyond control ; 
Wakening from its utmost depth. 
Thoughts that had forgotten slept, 
Bearing to the softened heart. 
All that Time had rent apart. 



THE STARS 



133 



Yet beneath their gaze august, 

Bidding earthly strife be hushed. 

Drawn by the mysterious tie 

Of a hidden Destiny, 

Watch they, calm and changeless still, 

Over human ways and will. 

Pure and hallowed as their light, 

Is that secret power and might ; 

Precious is the hidden spell. 

If thou'lt read its teaching well ; 

Silent, sacred is the charm. 

Shielding thee from ill and harm; 

Healing balm for adverse hour. 

If thou shrink not from its power. 

I tell thee not, oh ! child of thought. 

That, like thyself, they sprang from naught ; 

A Will mysterious, undefined, 

A motion of the Eternal Mind, 

A Word, Omnipotent alone, 



134 THE STAKS. 

Awoke tlieir being, as thine own ; 
Gave dawning to thy few short years, 
And framed and filled their radiant spheres. 
I would not turn for thee the page 
Of Science, garnered age on age, 
The storied light of every clime 
Land-marked adown the lines of Time, 
Broodings of ever-restless Thought, 
By patient labour silent wrought. 
Into one glorious focus brought, 
Where firm Experience doth unfold, 
Truth vainly sought by sage of old ; 
Showing undoubted worlds on high, 
Walking the pathway of the sky. 
Moving with a noiseless tread. 
Through space so infinite and dread, 
That human thought may well shrink bact 
Appalled, along that awful track. 
I onl}^ ask thy childish creed, 



THE STARS. 135 

A treasure for a time of need, 

That simple creed, now thrown aside. 

With growing years in reckless pride. 

Oh ! keep it sacred and apart, 

E'ot for the mind, but for the heart. 

I bid thee but to take again. 

The first bright link in that young chain, 

Of childish thought and childish love. 

When erst thy gaze was cast above. 

Thou sawest through the o'er shadowing skies. 

The downward glance of countless eyes. 

That watched in seeming sympathy. 

Thy every motion glad and free ; 

Or met, as from mysterious cause. 

With answering look, thy earnest pause. 

And nightly through the lattice pane 

Thou sought'st that cheering glance again. 

That did its holy vigil keep. 

Meet guardian of thy childhood's sleep. 



136 THE STARS. 

Oh ! wearied with all human lore, 
The heart unfilled — the spirit sore, — • 
In worldly wisdom — -worldly wise, 
Yet burdened with the hard-won prize, — 
The willing or unwilling heir 
Of oft-quenched hope and jarring care. 
Writhing 'neath Memory's magic grasp. 
The hauntings of the chequered past. 
With bitter memories overcast ; 
Walk thou beneath the mystic even, 
Hushed every sound in earth and heaven ; 
Thy bosom bare without disguise, 
Unto the calm and radiant skies. 
Watch, one by one, the lights arise 
Of those that met thy childhood's eyes ; 
Oh ! shrink not, turn not thou away 
Beneath the deep-reproving ray ; 
Let every glance have Mentor-power 
To work its will in that still hour. 



THE STARS. 137 

'Na.j ! shrink not ! think on that dread day, 
The wakening of all mortal clay, 
When, 'mid a flood of light divine, 
Tlie signet star aloft shall shine ; 
The gathered Universe aromid ; 
No hiding place shall then be found ; 
One piercing, truthful look shall be 
The fiat of Eternity ! 
Oh ! wash with penitential tears. 
Off from thy soul the dross of years ; 
Then calmed and healed, pass on thy way, 
"With spirit chastened as their ray, 
Deem each a monitor and friend, 
The quenchless stars that o'er thee bend. 
18 



C0uteuts 



PAGE. 

NEW year's song 9 

THE PAST 11 

TEARS 14 

THE STORM IT 

THE poets' meeting 21 

LINES SUGGESTED BY ROGERS' ITALY 25 

A poet's TREASURES 31 

THE PARTING 37 

THE FAREWELL SONG 39 

THE FOREST TREE 41 

THE BUNCOMBE PARTING SONG 45 

STANZAS 48 

ON MY spirit's LIGHT, ETC 50 

ON HEARING MY SISTER SING 55 



140 CONTENTS. 

FANNY 58 

RELICS 61 

THOUGHTS IN SADNESS 64 

THE DESTINY 66 

THE SISTERS 71 

THE DREAMER 79 

TO MY ELDEST BOY 83 

LINES WRITTEN DURING ILLNESS 90 

life's duty 92 

childhood's voices 96 

on a bright cloud 100 

we shall meet again 102 

TO 103 

THE EVENING HOUR 106 

UNFADING BEAUTY OF NATURE 110 

THE TORRENT 114 

AUTUMN 120 

THE STARS 132 



MAR 16 1903 



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